Drummondtown Baptist Church

Observations #10

Josh pirouetted across the floor just after I began talking about the judicial branch. Nobody paid him any mind.

That didn’t deter him from executing two mid-air leaps and a magnanimous leg kick that would have made Mikhail Baryshnikov blush with pride. He finally fluttered to a graceful conclusion settling into a desk and clicking on his computer.

“Now, class, the judicial branch plays an important role in our government,” I said. “As you know…”

Josh stuck two ear buds into his head and turned on some Broadway musical.

I kept going. “We’re going to begin today by discussing just what courts really do.”

Josh rose like a slow summer squall and began the dramatic finale to Romeo and Juliet. Tears welled in his eyes as he held his lover one last time and then drank the poison.

We left Thyatira with high spirits. The Lord was pleased with this congregation and gave them high marks for improvement in all aspects of their spiritual journey.

But it didn’t take long after arriving in Sardis before we were mired in the slough of despair. The Lord spared any pleasantries with this church and instead slammed them with three devastating words, three words that still seem to echo off the lonely remaining two pillars of the Temple of Artemis that once dominated this wealthy city. What did He say to them in a moment of heated discourse? He said, “You are dead!” (Rev. 3:2). (Insert Greek text here). This chilling sentence, brief but potent, gives us all pause as we reflect upon our own lives. Melito, the ancient church father who belonged to the Church at Sardis, came along several decades after this critical period. He dedicated his life to restoring the church’s name. Let’s all take inspiration from Melito and strive to live to the fullest

From the Pew

Shelley and I compared middle school report cards after church. We must have had the same teacher. Her little teacher note at the bottom of the card said the same thing mine said: squirms a lot–daydreams.

My sixth-grade teacher in Jacksonville Arkansas, Mr. Cochran, was a bona fide cowboy who tolerated daydreaming. He seemed to understand me. He raised and raced quarterhorses. He gave me all kinds of valuable advice. One day he said to the class, “Gentlemen, always change your shoes at least once a day. It’s good for your feet.”

I’m sure Shelley’s teacher gave equally inciteful aphorisms to guide her through the restless school afternoons. I miss those days when squirming and dreaming kept interrupting the memorization of the times tables.

It’s comforting to know I wasn’t the only daydreamer sitting behind a wooden desk. And by the way, just what exactly did your teacher write about you? Let me know. I won’t laugh. (LOL).